Unlikely Friends

by Sahar Abdulaziz

  “I need to ask you for a favor?” She hoped she wasn’t pushing her luck.

  “Speak.”

  “Well, if I go food shopping, I’ll have too many packages to carry. I’ll need a ride home.”

  Irwin busied himself with a stack of books. “Fine. Get your shopping completed by the time the library closes. I get off at eight. I will pick you up at eight-ten sharp.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Halt.” Irwin put a finger in the air. “I’m not done. If you should not be outside waiting when I pull up, you’re out of luck and on your own. Am I making myself clear?”

  “Irrefutably. I will be ready, sir!” Gruff or not, Irwin didn’t seem mad, or at least not angry enough to hate her yet. A sense of relief swept over Harper that she hadn’t permanently ruined their friendship if one could describe what they had as a friendship.

  Harper jetted off to her seat. With pen and paper, she busied herself compiling a food list, circling items on the circular, and cutting out coupons, calculating a running tab. Halfway through, she peered up in time to catch Irwin staring at her, wearing a genuine smile on his face, and this time, he hadn’t bothered to hide it.

  ***

  Harper zipped through the food aisles, conferring back and forth with her list and watching the clock like a hawk. She selected boxes of healthy cereal along with a variety of pasta and jars of various flavored sauces. Harper lifted a ten-pound bag of rice like a baby and shoved it lovingly under the cart’s rack. She chose fresh produce, a five-pound bag of apples, bananas, two-dozen eggs and a quart of milk. Her coupons covered most of the paper products. Lastly, she bought a box of tea, a few kinds of cheeses, a jar of real-fruit jam, and the water crackers her mother enjoyed.

  Harper had less than fifteen minutes left. Time to check out. Irwin was not the type to bluff. He’d just as soon leave her to prove a point than wait an extra two seconds.

  “Excuse me, Miss,” said a cute, young man, not much older than Harper. “Aisle four is open if you want to bring your cart around.”

  “Oh, cool.” She tried not to blush.

  “Coupons?” asked the cashier, whose name tag read “Kevin.”

  Harper handed the collection over.

  “Do you have a preferred shopper card with us?”

  “No.”

  Kevin smiled.

  Harper liked his smile and the rest of his face too.

  “No problem,” he said and scanned a card from his keychain. “It might save you a few bucks.”

  “Thanks.” Harper continued to pile her items on the belt in record time while Kevin rang her up and scanned her coupons into the system. Together they bagged the items.

  “That’ll be eighty-four, thirty-seven.”

  Harper swiped her gift card, pleased she’d come in under budget and with a few dollars to spare.

  Kevin handed Harper the receipt. “You saved fourteen dollars and six cents.”

  “Thanks to you.”

  This time Kevin reddened. “And your coupons. They helped a lot.”

  Harper smiled back, sure it was his shopper card that did most of the heavy lifting.

  “Have a good night,” said Kevin, calling after Harper, already making a mad dash to the front of the store.

  “You too,” she shouted and half waved, excited to surprise her mom with the groceries and giddy from the cute guy’s attention.

  Not a bad night for once.

  As promised, she found Irwin parked in front of the store, engine on. As soon as he saw her, he got out of the car, popped the trunk, and helped her load.

  “Did you find everything you needed?” he asked.

  “I did. Thank you. This was really nice of you to do.”

  Irwin slammed the trunk closed. “Let’s go.”

  Harper opened the front passenger door.

  “Uh-uh.” Irwin shook his head. “In the backseat,” he ordered, offering no further explanation.

  “You’re kidding, right?”

  Irwin’s face said not kidding. Harper poked out her jaw, rolled her eyes, and closed the front door. Then she slid into the backseat.

  “Seatbelt.”

  Harper complied.

  “Where am I going?”

  “Make the next left and take Main Street down for about a quarter of a mile. Then make the right after the light onto Smith Lane.”

  The pair rode in silence.

  “Slow down,” said Harper. “The turn is coming up.”

  “Now what?”

  “Go slow. My house is number one-twenty-one. The grey one on the left.”

  Irwin pulled into an open space directly in front of the house. He turned off the engine and popped the trunk to start unloading the packages, bringing them only as far as the bottom of the stoop. Within less than a minute, they had the bags unpacked. Irwin turned to leave when the front door burst wide open.

  “What in the hell is all this?” yelled Olivia. She stood at the top of the steps with her hands planted on her hips. She stared first at Harper, then at Irwin accusingly.

  “I can explain, Ma. Just go inside.”

  “No. You’ll explain right now,” Olivia countered, non-to-happy. “Is this your doing?” she asked Irwin. “You think we need your charity?”

  “Ma!” Harper shrieked.

  Olivia ignored her daughter. “Well, do you?”

  Irwin calmly folded his hands and looked Olivia in the eye. “It isn’t charity,” he said, voice composed. “Your daughter helps out at the library a few times a week. Some of our older patrons don’t understand how to properly use the computers and Harper helps them. The gift card came from the staff to show your daughter our appreciation.”

  What a lie.

  Harper was impressed but squashed the laugh.

  “I am merely the taxi service for the delivery,” he added, straight-faced.

  Olivia squinted at Irwin as if trying to gauge his bullshit barometer. Then she turned her attention to Harper. “Is this true?” she asked. “Is that what happened?”

  Harper nodded yes.

  The porch standoff lasted for a few more moments before Olivia moved out of the way to allow Harper to bring the shopping bags inside.

  “I owe you an apology, Mr.—”

  “Abernathy,” groaned Harper as she lifted two heavy loads.

  “Mr. Abernathy. Thank you for driving my daughter home.”

  “My pleasure, ma’am.” Irwin turned, got into his car, and pulled away. No rush, no muss, no nothing. Not even a wave goodbye.

  Harper grabbed the last bag and followed her mother inside, steamed. “I could use a hand putting this stuff away,” she said, saddened that her surprise had turned into yet another mother-daughter battle.

  But Olivia wasn’t done. Harper saw her mother’s lips pursed in disapproval. Instead of being happy or appreciative, the woman looked heated, pissing Harper off even more.

  “This is a lot of food. How much were you gifted?” asked Olivia.

  “One hundred dollars.”

  “And you were able to get all of this?”

  “I used coupons and shopped the sales like you do.”

  Olivia merely nodded.

  No “good job.” No “thank you, honey, for thinking of me.” Nothing.

  “Stupid me. I thought you’d be happy.”

  “I do appreciate what you did,” said Olivia. “It’s just that, well, I got caught off-guard. I wasn’t expecting to see Mr. Librarian standing on my stoop.”

  “Mr. Abernathy, and he’s a nice person, Ma.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “I mean it. He’s not like what you’re thinking.”

  “And how do you know what I think?”

  “Because it’s written all over your face.” Harper shoved the paper towels under the sink. “You’re just mad because somebody is nice to me,” she grumbled loud enough for her mother to hear.

  “That’s not true.”

  “Yes, it is.”

  “Harper!”

&
nbsp; “You always ruin everything.”

  “Harper Leigh! That guy’s older than me! What business does he have hanging around with you? You’re just a kid!”

  “I knew it.” Harper sneered. “I knew you’d think the worst of him.” Harper leaned on one hip and pointed at her mother. “Well, I got news for you. He’s not like that. He’s always polite to me, and as a matter of fact, he made me ride in the backseat on the way home!”

  Olivia groaned. “That doesn’t mean he’s not a child molester.”

  “Oh! Like now all of a sudden, you’re the resident expert on perverts, right?” Harper turned. “A bit late,” she mumbled.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Forget it.”

  “No. You said it. Tell me what you meant.”

  “I said forget it!” Harper stormed upstairs. She turned the lock behind her. Pressing the small of her back against the wood frame, she cried. Angry tears spilled down flushed cheeks. Harper thumped the back of her head against the door, incensed that she couldn’t follow her own advice. But some things in life couldn’t go unseen. Nor could they be forgotten.

  CHAPTER 12

  Irwin

  Irwin tolerated Bones and Bones used Irwin, but tonight, the sound of the impertinent cat’s purring elicited in Irwin a sense of comfort. At least somebody, albeit a cat, seemed glad to have him home. Happy to see him, if only to secure the next free meal.

  Irwin flicked on the kitchen light, hung up his hat and coat, and locked the side door. Bones purred louder, circling his legs and making it difficult for Irwin to move without tripping. “Give me a minute,” he complained halfheartedly, careful not to misstep.

  Rough week and rougher night, but nothing on God’s green earth could have prepared him for Mrs. Crane’s surprise attack. The way she glowered at him as if he were some dirty old man.

  Irwin cringed. With one look, she had him feeling guilty. Dirty. Foul. Embarrassed that he had told a lie. A shoddy, bald-faced lie of epic proportions. Not even a smart lie, but one easily disproven. And not only did he tell this appalling untruth, but he drew Harper—a kid—into his subterfuge. A lie turned sham, with him as the chief instigator and Harper as his trusty sidekick. What a mess. And no matter how many different ways Irwin played back the conversation in his head, nothing offered a better alternative.

  What should I have done? What choice did I have?

  Admit to the assistance? Get my ass tossed off the property? Have the mother haul off and punish Harper for the criminal offense of food shopping? Mrs. Crane looked mad enough to do almost anything, including preventing Harper from ever stepping one more foot into the library, and admittedly, while a month ago Irwin wouldn’t have noticed or cared, he did now. Quite the telling revelation.

  Irwin refreshed the water in the cat’s bowl and filled the other with dry food. Then he put the kettle on, threw another frozen chicken pot pie in the toaster oven, and sat down to sift through his mail. Besides junk, a circular, and a few bills, there was nothing of interest.

  Oh, wait.

  Another letter from his attorney somehow got stuck behind one of the bills. Irwin anxiously slid his finger under the lip and opened it. Enclosed, a single sheet of paper containing the news he had been waiting to hear.

  Dear Mr. Abernathy…We are pleased to inform you…should you have any further questions or concerns…please call to make an appointment at your earliest convenience…and warmest regards…

  Much better news than the letter he received last week. The one Cornelia saw fit to wave in his face. Irwin returned the missive safely to its envelope.

  Ah, Cornelia.

  While she could be a royal shrew in the butt sometimes, she sure nailed his duplicity royally. As pledged, he’d given all he could to Dakota, but now his attention would no longer be required. And for whatever reason, still undetermined, Harper sought him out for help. His help. Irwin had begun to genuinely care about this whacky child’s welfare and safety. He wanted to see her embrace a future without being stifled by the dysfunction that seemed to shroud her. That realization not only scared the shit out of him but clearly revealed to what lengths he’d go to see it through—including being a lowdown, lying son of a bitch.

  Enough.

  He’d call the attorney tomorrow to make an appointment. It was time to stop procrastinating and get his affairs in order, start the process he had put off for much too long.

  ***

  The Witching Hour

  The call came at three in the morning, startling him awake from a sound sleep.

  “I’m sorry to disturb you, Mr. Abernathy. This is Doctor Rollins, Dakota’s physician.”

  Irwin rubbed his eyes. “Yes, Dr. Rollins,” he mumbled groggily, fumbling for the light switch. “It’s fine,” he said, his voice flat, hiding the terror set to pounce a mere second away. “What’s happened?”

  “I need you to come to the hospital immediately,” she said, her voice urgent but kind. “I can meet you in the ICU. Just have reception page me when you get here.”

  Irwin sat up, now fully awake. Heart pounding. “I, I’ll have to get dressed, but I can be there shortly.”

  “Is there somebody close by that can drive you?” she asked.

  Irwin thought about phoning Cornelia but then decided against it. “I’ll be there shortly, Dr. Rollins. Thank you again for calling.”

  “See you soon then.”

  ***

  The hospital had a comfortably furnished room near the ICU available for Irwin to wait while they paged Dr. Rollins. The doctor arrived within minutes.

  “Mr. Abernathy?” Dr. Rollins entered the room, still wearing scrubs. Irwin stood to greet her. “No, please, stay seated,” she said.

  Irwin removed his hat and sat back down on the small, well-worn couch. The doctor joined him, taking the adjacent seat.

  “I am sorry, but I have bad news,” she began. “I know you are aware of Dakota’s ongoing treatment, but Dakota has been struggling. She went into cardiac arrest this morning. We tried to resuscitate, but we were unsuccessful. She died shortly before I phoned you.”

  There was the word he had been in fear of.

  Died. She died. She’s dead.

  “Did she feel any pain?” he asked. The question seemed to spill out of nowhere, but he had to know.

  “No. I don’t think so. I think Dakota’s heart simply got tired and stopped.”

  “I should have been here,” he mumbled.

  “You were here, Mr. Abernathy. Dakota knew that. You have shown no shortage of love and devotion to her.” She paused. “You have supported Dakota every step of the way over these past four years.”

  “Has her father been called?”

  “Yes. He has been notified as well.”

  Irwin dreaded hearing this kind of news for four years, and yet now that it had arrived, he had no words to express the grief overpowering him. “May I see her?”

  “Of course. Just let me go speak with the nurses for a moment and then I’ll come back to walk you over.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dr. Rollins reached over and softly squeezed Irwin’s hand. “I’m deeply sorry for your loss.”

  ***

  All life supports were disconnected by the time Irwin entered Dakota’s room. The ventilator, endotracheal tube, and the cardiac monitors were gone as well. Her body now lay covered with proper bedclothes, her face wiped clean. No traces of blood or jelly used for the DC shock remained. She looked at peace, if that were possible.

  He had witnessed her health gradually decline, but watching her slip away had been cruel. The anticipated finality and the awareness that the end beckoned left him feeling empty. All the fabricated hopes Irwin had built up in his head for Dakota now dissolved. No more birthdays, no more visits or long hours spent reading. No more flowers.

  Irwin stood at the foot of her bed, a respectful distance away. In all the years he’d come to visit, he never once touched Dakota. She was Gilly’s baby,
someone else’s daughter. And although he loved her as if she were his own, he would mourn Dakota from afar. Sequestered to the griever’s ledge, near but never near enough to entirely matter.

  As he paid his silent homage, Irwin thought about all the hours and days he spent watching over his sleeping princess, never once feeling resentful as some people do when they dedicate their life and time as the primary caregiver. As he stood, frozen in place, he felt no relief that she was gone, no longer here or that his responsibilities, however self-anointed, were now complete. Only the overriding guilt that he hadn’t done enough dared to linger and torment.

  Irwin retrieved the photo kept in his wallet. A stunning picture of Gilly and Dakota during happier times. He walked to the side of her bed and leaned it against an already existing photo frame.

  Irwin cleared his throat. He folded his hands and bowed his head. “Safe travels, sweet princess,” he whispered, his voice choked up. “Tell your mother how much I love and miss her.” His shoulders trembled. “Thank her for letting me take care of you.”

  The nurse had kindly explained to Irwin that Dakota would remain at the hospital until her father gave them permission to transfer her to the funeral home. She was not permitted to say more than that. He understood.

  Irwin bid the nurses and doctor a solemn, final farewell. He thanked them for all they had done to keep Dakota comfortable and safe. As he rode down the elevator to the main floor, his shoulders sagged under the weight of hopelessness and a brooding sorrow, knowing he’d never see Dakota again. She was gone. Just like Gilly. And now, so was a big piece of his heart.

  ***

  Irwin hadn’t been home a full minute before he heard a barrage of insistent knocks hammering against the side door.

  “Irwin? It’s me.” Cornelia banged again. “Open up,” she demanded.

  Irwin unlatched the lock. Cornelia pushed forward and barreled in before he even had a chance to pull the door closed.

  “I saw you leave early this morning,” she said. “I couldn’t sleep. My insomnia’s been driving me crazy.” Cornelia appeared frazzled. Worried. An unexpected three a.m. departure for Irwin usually only meant one thing. She stopped talking and stared. “Why do you look like shit?”